


searching for a feeling

by ineedmygirl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fate & Destiny, Happy Ending, M/M, Message in a bottle, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mysterious kei, romantic kuroo, whatever you believe in, wholesome plot twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedmygirl/pseuds/ineedmygirl
Summary: It was a glass bottle. With a little paper note rolled up inside.My name is Kei,it began.And by the end of it, Kuroo Tetsurou’s epic quest for the existence of fate in the form of the boy called Kei had commenced.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 17
Kudos: 270
Collections: Luna & Noir: KuroTsuki Fest 2020





	searching for a feeling

**Author's Note:**

> i was so excited to get my first choice, so here's prompt #91 for the krtsk luna noir fest!

It wasn’t that Kuroo didn’t believe in fate, or destiny, or any other cosmic forces like that. It was just, he’d never had any personal experiences with it before, so he had no reason to consider the legitimacy of it all.

That is, until his family took a summer trip to the beach.

They didn’t take many trips together. It was hard for his mom to get the time off work, and it was a little more than they could afford with him, his grandmother, and his little sister all living under one roof and one paycheck. They used to visit the shore all the time when he was a kid and his dad was still around, but it had been many, many years since they had been back.

There was already something special about this trip, even before Kuroo found the note.

One night, as he was taking a walk along the water’s edge, the way he and his father used to do, he came across a rocky cliffside with a wide opening. He didn’t remember ever seeing it before, back when he was a kid, which was strange since it looked like the rock had been carved away by the water for many, many years.

The cavern was just tall enough for him to stand up inside, dimly lit by the full moon reflecting off the water’s surface. It was cool. Maybe he would come back again tomorrow, show it to his little sister.

He was just about to turn around and head back to the house when he saw it. Caught by the rippling waves between a group of rocks, gently bobbing in the water.

It was a glass bottle. With a little paper note rolled up inside.

_My name is Kei,_ it began.

And by the end of it, Kuroo Tetsurou’s epic quest for the existence of fate in the form of the boy called Kei had commenced.  
  
  
  


*

“How’s your hunt for that kid going?”

Kuroo reaches across the table to clap his hands over Kenma’s mouth, glancing around nervously at the nearby patrons of the coffee shop. A few old women give him nasty looks, but it doesn’t look like anyone else overheard them. He sighs and lets his hands drop, giving his smirking best friend a wry look.

“Can you please not call it a ‘hunt’? You make it sound like I’m some sort of creepy predator!”

Kenma thinks it over for a moment.

“Nope,” he decides, picking off a little piece of his scone and popping it in his mouth. It’s a moot point arguing with him after that.

“It’s…going,” Kuroo finally admits reluctantly. Kenma arches a brow slightly.

“You mean you haven't gotten anywhere with it?”

“I have!”

“Really?” Kenma drawls. “Let me see, then.”

Before Kuroo can protest, Kenma snatches his notebook out from under his nose with cat-like reflexes. Kuroo sits back in defeat, watching the way Kenma very obviously tries to hold back his laughter.

Kuroo doesn’t need to have the paper in front of him to know exactly what’s written on it. He’s practically seared it into his memory at this point, sees it burned into the backs of his eyelids when he goes to sleep every night.

His notes on ‘Kei’.

A collection of things he knows about the mysterious author of the message in a bottle, based off of what he learned from the note itself.

It reads like this:

1\. _My name is Kei._

 **Notes:** His name is Kei.

2\. _I don’t know what I’m even writing this for. It’s not like anyone is ever actually gonna read it. I told Yamaguchi that these things don’t actually work and they’ll just end up lost at sea forever, or crushed up in some landfill somewhere, but he looks really excited while he’s writing his right now, and I don’t wanna make him sad, so I guess I’ll just write one, too._

 **Notes:** Kei doesn’t believe in sending messages in bottles, which means that he probably doesn’t believe in a lot of things in general. Also, he has a friend named Yamaguchi. Or, a brother named Yamaguchi. Or, Yamaguchi could be imaginary. Not enough information to make a conclusive decision.

3\. _I wonder what Yamaguchi is writing. It looks like a lot. Maybe he’s writing about volleyball. We just joined a team together at our middle school. He seems to really like it, even though he doesn’t play in games that much. I play in every game. Probably because I’m the tallest twelve year old and the best blocker in the whole league._

 **Notes:** Kei plays volleyball. He’s a blocker. Also, he’s twelve years old. Starting to think Yamaguchi might be a real friend. Still inconclusive.

4\. _My older brother used to be the best ace in Sendai. Then he quit. Totally uncool._

 **Notes:** He has an older brother, and they live in Sendai. Definitely some bad blood there.

5\. _We saw whales in the ocean today. They were really far away, but we could see their backs and the water coming from their blow holes. Did you know that whales are actually mammals, not fish? And before they evolved to breathe in the water, they used to live on land? Yamaguchi didn’t believe me, so I’m telling you instead._

 **Notes:** Intelligent. Kei is an extremely intelligent twelve year old kid. Maybe even a little bit of a nerd.

6\. _Ugh, I hate sand. It always gets stuck in my glasses._

 **Notes:** Kei hates sand. Also, he wears glasses. Definitely a nerd, then.

And finally and most conclusively:

7\. _Some lame girl confessed to me at school the other day, in front of all of my friends. They were all really jealous, but I thought it was so embarrassing. Why would anyone want a confession from some girl they’ve never even talked to before? Why would anyone want a confession from a girl at all? Just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt._

 **Notes:** Kei is one hundred percent gay.

When he reads the last line of Kuroo’s notes, Kenma doesn’t bother holding in his incredulous snort of laughter, pushing Kuroo’s notebook back over to him.

“You’re projecting.”

Kuroo frowns, smoothing out some of the wrinkles Kenma put on the page.

“What do you mean?”

“Really?” Kenma gives him a deadpan stare. “A tall kid who plays blocker on his school’s volleyball team with his best friend? Total nerd who knows way too many random facts about whales and evolution and probably all sorts of other geeky, science-related things? Gay, but doesn’t know it yet? He’s literally you, like, seven years ago.”

“I don’t have an older brother. Or glasses.”

“Kuro,” Kenma sighs, using the same nickname he has been since they were kids. “It’s nice and all that you want to find this kid and help him out, or whatever it is you’re trying to find him for, but you need to be realistic about this. I mean, what if the kid doesn’t even want you to respond to his letter? He did say he never actually thought anyone would read it.”

“No,” Kuroo says firmly. “He wouldn’t have sent it in the first place if he didn’t want someone to respond.”

“How do you know?” Kenma asks exasperatedly.

Kuroo shrugs, tracing his fingers along the words of Kei’s letter. He could do it with his eyes closed at this point.

In his letter, Kei claimed he didn’t believe it would actually work, that he wasn’t expecting anyone to ever really write back. But maybe that was a lie. Maybe he was really was just like Kuroo.

Kenma was right. Kuroo can see a lot of similarities between himself and Tsukishima.

But none more so than the fact they were both looking for proof of something _bigger_ than all of this.

If Kuroo can find Kei, if he can help him in some way, even if it’s just proving to the kid that messages in bottles sometimes _do_ find their way to the right people, then. Well.

Kuroo would have a reason to believe in fate, or destiny, or any other cosmic forces like that. And Kei would have a reason to believe in anything at all.

“I just do.”  
  
  
  


*

Turns out, not many middle schools in Sendai are willing to just hand over information about their students to strange men.

In fact, after visiting eight schools and nearly having the cops called on him at five out of those eight schools, Kuroo comes to the conclusion that there probably isn’t a single middle school in Sendai that is actually willing to hand out information about their students to strange men.

He won’t be discouraged, though. He’s already come this far, using a chunk of his savings and an entire Saturday to take the train to Sendai and continue his search for Kei. If out of a hundred rejections, he somehow manages to find a single school that will help him out, and that single school happens to know where Kei is, it will have been worth it.

The ninth middle school he visits looks exactly like all the rest. On the outside, there’s nothing apparently different about it, but Kuroo has a good feeling about this one. He’s always been an optimist like that.

On his way to the front office, he passes by a little red-headed kid siting in the chairs waiting outside, kicking their feet and humming under their breath. They give him a toothy grin and Kuroo waves back. It’s only polite.

The secretaries behind the front desk are considerably less friendly.

“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” the pinch-lipped woman with a severe bun on top of her head says, giving Kuroo a flat stare. “You want us to provide you, an adult male with no affiliation to this school or any of the kids in it, the address of a little boy that you’re looking for, and all you know about him is that his name is Kei, he wears glasses, and plays volleyball? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Kuroo sighs in defeat, waving off her assistant as she tries to covertly reach for the phone.

“Don’t bother calling the police, I’ll just go now.”

He’s so wrapped up in trying to stay positive and plan his next move as he walks out of the office, he almost doesn’t hear the little voice calling out to him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Hey! Wait up, mister!”

Kuroo slows, turning back and frowning in confusion when he doesn’t see anyone behind him. A throat clears and Kuroo glances down to see the tiny redhead from before looking up at him with a bright smile.

“I know the person you’re looking for!”

Kuroo blinks, brain so unused to getting good news at this point he almost doesn’t comprehend it.

“You - you do?”

The redhead nods so hard, Kuroo is worried their head is going to bobble right off.

“Yeah, it’s gotta be Tsukki!”

“Tsukki?” Kuroo frowns and repeats the unfamiliar name. This wasn’t in his notes.

“Tsukishima Kei,” the kid explains. The name tugs at something deep-buried in Kuroo’s chest. “He’s got glasses and he even plays volleyball, too! We practice together sometimes.”

Hope starts to bubble up in Kuroo’s chest, though he tries not to get too far ahead of himself. But this tiny redhead person must be one of Kei’s little middle school friends. He might really have a _chance_ here.

“Do you -” Kuroo peeks over at the front office, but none of the secretaries seem to have noticed he hasn’t left yet. “Do you know where he lives?” He continues with his voice lowered. The redhead nods again, but their smile falters.

“Wait a minute, you’re not a pervert are you?”

Kuroo yelps and shakes his head quickly, darting glances around nervously. He should probably be a bit more concerned with the fact that his life now regularly consists of him making sure people know he’s not a predator.

“No, no, no, kid, no!” He promises. “I just - I have something of his.”

Deciding to trust his small new friend, Kuroo fishes the note out of his pocket and carefully hands it over. He watches as little fingers gently unfold the notes, eyes growing wider and wider as they read.

Finally, they pass Kei’s note back to Kuroo with a little smile.

“Tsukki lives right on this same street. Turn left out the front doors and walk a few blocks until you pass the convenience store. His house is on the corner has a big cherry blossom tree in the front yard. Good luck.”

Kei’s letter suddenly feels like it’s burning a hole in Kuroo’s pocket. He thanks the kid with a pat on the top of their fiery ginger hair and speeds off down the hallway, hearing the front office door opening behind him. He starts to walk a little faster, but still manages to hear what the secretary calls out.

“Natsuo, let’s go! Your big brother is here to pick you up!”  
  
  
  


*

Cherry blossom tree, cherry blossom tree, cherry blossom tree, cherry -

Kuroo’s heart kicks in his chest. Nerves? Anticipation? Excitement? An emotional hangover inducing cocktail of all three, maybe.

Because there it is. Down a few blocks, past the convenience store, house on the corner with a big cherry blossom tree out front.

This is it. This is Kei’s house.

He noticing his hand is shaking slightly when he gives three sharp knocks on the front door, and he quickly stuffs it in his pocket, fingers trailing the frayed edges of Kei’s note to calm himself. He hears muted voices and soft footsteps and holds his breath.

Oh, crap. He hasn't decided what he’s going to say first yet. What’s the decorum for this kind of situation? He can’t just open with _Hi, Kei! So nice to see you! How’s volleyball going? Is Yamaguchi a real person? By the way, I know you like boys._

Gods, what if one of his _parents_ answers the door? How is he going to explain to them that he’s here to see their pre-teen son, who he’s never actually met before, but needs to have a very private conversation about life with?

As the doorknob turns and Kuroo’s mind grinds to a complete standstill, he comes to the realization that he is going to fuck this up. Inevitably.

It’s not Kei’s parents that open the door.

It’s not Kei either.

It’s a tall guy, probably around Kuroo’s own age, in a purple hoodie and socked feet with a pair of headphones around his neck. He has blonde hair that curls over the nape of his neck and behind his ears, with bright amber eyes that regard Kuroo with an initial look of shock that schools itself into something much more coolly indifferent.

Ah, Kuroo realizes. This must be the artist formerly known as The Best Ace in Sendai.

“Yes? Can I help you?” The blonde guy asks. His voice is startlingly soft, pleasant despite its lack of inflection.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Kuroo mentally curses his traitorous tongue that hasn’t been fitting right in his mouth ever since he realized how terribly pretty the boy in front of him is. “I’m looking for Kei. Are you his older brother?”

The boy’s eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly. Protective of his younger brother, then. Understandable. Kuroo certainly wouldn’t let just any random guy off the street into his house to see his little sister, either.

“I might be,” he drawls. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“Right, ah.” Kuroo clumsily takes his right hand - the one that had been holding Kei’s letting for comfort - out of his pocket and offers it to the boy. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. I found something that belongs to him and I just wanted to return it.”

Still looking slightly guarded, but too polite to ignore Kuroo’s handshake, the boy fits their palms together. When his slender fingers wrap around Kuroo’s, he swears he feels a small spark. The boy pulls away too fast for Kuroo to see if he had felt it, too. 

Wouldn’t that be a funny twist of fate? If it had brought Kuroo to Kei’s letter and dragged him all the way to Sendai just so he could fall hopelessly for his older brother?

“And what, pray tell, did you find, Kuroo Tetsurou?” The boy’s voice is colored slightly with interest now, so Kuroo jumps at the chance, ignoring how much he enjoy’s the sound of his name in that lilting, almost teasing voice. He goes to pull Kei’s letter out of his pocket when suddenly a woman’s voice calls out from inside the house.

“Kei, honey, who’s at the door?”

Kuroo startles, hand freezing in his pocket, instinctively trying to look past the boy in front of him into the house to see if he was hiding some scrawny, bespectacled twelve year old kid behind him.

There’s no one.

Confused, he lets his eyes meet the ones in front of him again.

Without looking away, the boy calls back, “No one, Mom.”

Kuroo stares.

The boy - no, _Kei_ \- stares back.

Every synapses in Kuroo’s brain goes haywire.

“What - You - Wait -” Kuroo shakes his head, tugging at his hair and definitely making even more of a disastrous mess out of it. “No, no, no. You can’t be - _You’re_ Kei?”

Kei - Tsukishima? Should he call him Tsukishima? - blinks at him a few times before nodding slowly.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no.

“But - You're not wearing glasses!” Kuroo accuses, pointing a finger in his face. Kei frowns and bats his finger away.

“I got contacts a few years ago for when I play sports - Wait, why am I even telling you this?” Kei snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ah.” Kuroo swallows hard, taking him in again from top to bottom. “So, I guess you’re not twelve years old anymore either, huh?”

Kei’s eyebrows furrow. “What?”

With hands much steadier than his heart feels, Kuroo reaches into his pocket and pulls out Kei’s letter, offering it to him. The blonde eyes it with clear confusion for only a moment, before he’s unfolding the paper creased from Kuroo’s constant handling, and blatant shock and recognition flood his features.

“I found that when I was at the beach with my family a few weeks ago. Sorry it took me so long to bring it back, I’ve been really busy with college prep so I haven’t had a lot of time to take the train in from Tokyo. But I just thought - well, I thought you were a lot younger, obviously, and that maybe it would be a nice surprise for you if someone actually _did_ get your letter. You reminded me a lot of myself, and I guess I just figured that’s what I would have wanted. So.”

“You…” Kei starts slowly, gaze returning to Kuroo, looking at him again like it’s the first time. “You went to all this trouble to return a message in a bottle to some twelve year old kid you never met before?”

Right. Well, when he puts it like that, it’s no wonder people have been treating Kuroo like a child predator lately.

Except, Kei isn’t a child at all. He’s just…a guy? Just a young guy with piercing eyes and blonde curls and a voice that Kuroo never wants to stop listening to.

There’s probably something very deeply wrong with this since he thought Kei was a middle schooler like, thirty seconds ago, but Kuroo can’t even bring himself to care because Kei is so _pretty_ and he’s _real_ and he wrote that note when he was twelve years old and Kuroo _found_ it. That has to count for something, right?

“Yup.”

Kei doesn’t say anything again for an anxiety-inducing amount of time before sighing and mumbling something under his breath. He disappears back into the house and Kuroo only has a brief moment to panic before he’s walking back out, tugging on his shoes and calling over his shoulder, “Be back later, Mom!”

To Kuroo he says: “Come on. Let’s talk.”  
  
  
  


*

Kei takes Kuroo to a small cafe around the corner from his house. They don’t talk much on the short walk there, but Kuroo finds he doesn’t really mind it. He uses the time to let his mind catch up to the situation, stealing glances at Kei out of the corner of his eye to keep making sure he’s real. And not a twelve year old kid. And pretty.

He thinks he catches Kei stealing a few glances at him, too, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high yet.

It’s obvious that Kei is a regular at the cafe, because the girl behind the counter calls him by name and starts cutting him a slice of strawberry shortcake before they’ve even ordered. Kuroo finds it endlessly endearing.

“So,” Kei starts, taking a sip of his drink and sitting back in his seat to observe Kuroo curiously. “You’re not a pervert or something, are you?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Kuroo groans. Kei’s eyebrows shoot up and he quickly adds, “No! No, I’m not. I’m just a normal guy who wanted to bring a little boy his message in bottle back. Except, you know, you’re clearly not a little boy anymore, which probably makes this weird.”

“Would have been weird either way,” Kei comments, but there’s a little hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Kuroo laughs in relief, feeling his nerves start to settle.

“If you didn’t want it back, you shouldn’t have made it so tempting to prove you wrong.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I send a message in a bottle and don’t want a strange man showing up at my house.”

“Ah, so Yamaguchi’s making sure you keep up the habit?”

Kei looks surprised for a second at the mention of his friend’s name, before apparently remembering that even though he knows nothing about Kuroo, there’s a lot that Kuroo knows about him. Well, there are seven things that Kuroo knows about him, but the list is growing longer every second.

“I have a question about him, actually.”

“About Yamaguchi?” Kei asks.

“Yes. Is he real?”

“Is he…real?”

“Yeah, like is he an actual human person, or is he a friend you made up in your head?”

The most miraculous thing happens next.

Kei laughs.

Startled and completely caught off guard, he tilts his head back and laughs with his whole chest. It makes Kuroo smile, something warm unfurling in his veins when he watches the way Kei’s eyes crinkle up at the corners and his nose scrunches up.

“You - You want to know if Yamaguchi is my imaginary friend?”

“It was hard to tell just from reading your letter! And to be honest, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

“Yes, Yamaguchi is real,” Kei rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have imaginary friends.”

“Because you didn’t believe in them, right?”

Kei blinks and takes another slow sip of his drink.

“Right,” he admits, voice smaller than before.

So Kuroo had been wrong about Yamaguchi being imaginary, but he had been right about Kei needing something to believe in. Finally getting these answers, filling in these blank spaces about Kei has Kuroo feeling greedy, like he needs to ask Kei about everything he’s been wondering for these past few weeks.

“You mentioned that you got contacts because of sports right? Are you still playing volleyball?”

Kei nods, looking down at where his fingers are tapping against the side of his cup with a small, pleased smile. “I’m the vice-captain of my high school’s team this year,” he admits bashfully, like he isn’t used to bragging about himself.

“No kidding?” Kuroo asks, pleased. “I was the captain of my school’s team back when I was a third year. Played blocker like you, too. Guess you must be pretty good, huh?”

Kei shrugs, this time looking up with a little spark of competition in his eyes.

“I did stop one of the top three spikers in the country.”

“What?” Kuroo’s eyes widen and he leans further across the table excitedly. “Who was it?”

“Ushijima Wakatoshi.” Kei is full-on smirking now, clearly proud.

Kuroo’s jaw drops. He _should_ be proud. Kuroo just met the guy and he can already feel _himself_ swelling up with pride. It feels like he’s known Kei his whole life, like right before his eyes he just watched the twelve year old boy from the letter grow into an amazing player and leader. It feels like Kei is _his._

“No way! I read an article about him in a magazine once, his stats are off the charts! Holy shit, Kei, that’s incredible! Ah.” Kuroo cuts himself off with a strange noise when Kei chokes on his drink, eyes big and startled.

 _Too familiar, you idiot,_ Kuroo mentally berates himself, instinctively reaching over to pat Kei on the back when he starts coughing.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! I’ve really only known you as Kei before today. I guess it just felt sort of natural to call you that?” He winces as Kei waves him off, face still bright pink, though Kuroo can’t tell if it’s from the coughing anymore.

“It’s fine,” Kei says, still pink and refusing to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “You - you can keep calling me that. If it’s easier for you. Or not. I don’t care.”

Oh. Oh, the color in his cheeks is definitely not from the choking. Kei is _blushing._

“Yeah?” Kuroo can’t help the smile he feels stretching his face. “I might just take you up on that.”

Kei looks up and huffs when he sees the elated grin on Kuroo’s face.

“Do whatever you want. It doesn't make a difference to me.”

It’s so cute how obvious of a lie that is. Kuroo is pretty sure Kei is going to get his face stuck in a permanent smile at this rate.

“Oh! I have another question.”

“Of course you do,” Kei sighs, but he doesn’t look any less interested than before.

“Did your brother ever start playing again?”

Kei’s expression shutters, just the slightest bit. So Kuroo had been right about that, too. Bad blood. Just as quickly though, his face smooths out again, his lips turning up at the corners.

“Yeah. Yeah, he did. He’s a big part of the reason I was able to beat Ushijima, actually. He let me come practice with him and his college team sometimes.”

“Oh,” Kuroo breathes. “That’s great. I’m really glad to hear that.”

Kei cocks his head to the side and gives Kuroo a curious look.

“You were strangely invested in the life of some kid you didn’t even know.”

Kuroo chuckles and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “I guess I just kinda felt like I knew you? Is that weird?”

Kei gives him a long, searching look before shaking his head with a small laugh.

“Definitely weird. Though I sort of know what you mean?”

“You do?” Kuroo perks up. Kei nods and looks down at him hands again, twisting his fingers together in what looks like a nervous habit.

“Yeah. I don’t know nearly as much about you as you do about me, but when you showed up today… I don’t know. I kind of felt like I knew you, too.”

 _Soulmates_ is the first word that pops into Kuroo’s mind in that moment.

He had never considered the existence of soulmates before, but Tsukishima Kei is making him start rethinking a lot of things he thought he knew about life.

“I could tell you more about me, if you want to know,” Kuroo offers. Kei purses his lips in thought, then gives a short shake of his head.

“No. I think I have a better idea for that.”

Kei beckons Kuroo closer, their heads ducked together across the small cafe table as he explains his idea, and Kuroo is sure of it now - he’ll never stop smiling again. They make small talk, which is somehow actually enjoyable with Kei, while they finish their drinks, and Kuroo feels his heart plummet into his stomach as they stand together on the street corner outside the shop. This is where they part ways.

Even though he knows it won’t be the last time he sees Kei, the goodbye still doesn’t taste as sweet.

“So, I’ll talk to you soon?” Kuroo says quietly. He doesn’t need to speak up very much to be heard, with how close Kei is standing to him. Almost toe-to-toe. Kuroo can smell the lingering sugar on his breath.

“You better,” Kei threatens lightly, looking up at Kuroo from beneath his lashes, his gaze dropping to his lips and then quickly down to his feet. Kuroo feels an electric pulse race up his spine.

“I have one more question. About the letter.”

“It really wasn’t that long of a letter,” Kei huffs with a little smile.

“When did you figure out the, uh, gay thing?”

Kei looks up, staring back at Kuroo blankly.

“The what?”

“Oh. Oh gods, I’m so - I’m so sorry,” Kuroo flounders. “I didn’t mean to assume, it’s just from your note, I thought - This is so embarrassing, I’m just gonna, I’m just gonna go now, I’m so -”

Kei laughs and throws his arms around Kuroo’s neck, effectively cutting off his rambling by slotting their lips together in the gentlest, loveliest kiss Kuroo has ever been given in his life.

“I’m kidding,” Kei whispers against his mouth, and Kuroo can feel the way his lips are curled into a smirk. It’s terribly attractive. “I’m totally gay.”

“Knew it,” Kuroo whispers back, hands coming up to cup Kei’s face and bring him in for another kiss, and another. And then three more after that.  
  
  
  


*

“You know you could just bring that with you when you go visit him next weekend.”

“That’s not nearly as romantic, Kenma,” Kuroo explains patiently as he tries to stuff his message in a bottle into his tiny mailbox.

“You could at least just put it in an envelope like a normal person,” Kenma says without even looking up from his game.

“That would totally ruin the point of the whole thing!”

“Why don’t you just take it down to the post office then?”

“Because that would -! Actually, that’s a pretty good idea.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “Being in love has made you stupid. Stupider than usual, I mean.”

Kuroo shrugs happily, holding his little bottle up to the sky and watching the sunlight cast tiny rainbows inside.

“Don’t blame me, Kenma. Blame fate.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
